


Birthday Boy

by groovymumma



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 08:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2574977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groovymumma/pseuds/groovymumma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you give the man who has everything for his birthday? Mackenzie has a few ideas…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Boy

**Author's Note:**

> This little one shot has been floating around in my head for months. I think it started when I saw the fantastic tags that cerie had used on 'I Sing The Body Electric', and thought "Yes! I want to write shameless smut and PWP too!". I always figured I’d write it down some time before Season 3 started and plunged us all back into a world of angst. I’m cutting it a bit fine, I know, but I did just make it in time. Hope you like it!

“Where’s my Blackberry? And who the hell typed the autocue text tonight? A drunken moose? There were at least three typos just in the Edward Snowden segment. It’s not PRIM, it’s PRISM, and you’re fucking lucky I didn’t read it out like that.”

Will broke off and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Hair and make-up wouldn’t like it, but they’d have to deal. He was pissed as hell, and he didn’t care who knew it.

“I’m sorry about the autocue, Will. We’ll check it twice tomorrow night. And you know Neal is doing a software update on your Blackberry. What the hell is wrong with you tonight, anyway?”

Will glared past the bright lights to where he knew Mac was standing in the control room, but didn’t answer. Usually her voice had the power to calm him down like nothing else, but tonight it just made everything worse.

It was June 20. His birthday. He hated his birthday, always had done. Not that it was any different from any other day in his childhood, because they were never allowed to celebrate it anyway, but somehow when you old man beat up on you on your birthday it seemed even worse than a regular day.

Birthdays had changed after he’d gotten together with Mac. The first year, she’d woken him up with a mind-melting blow job. No one had ever loved him enough before to want to do that the morning after. And for the three years they’d been together, his birthday had become something good, something to look forward to, because MacKenzie had made it that way. Tickets to the Mets, dinner at Per Se, Mac donning her skimpy black lingerie and giving him a full body massage—he could finally see what all the fuss was about. And then she was gone, banished to Afghanistan by her infidelity and his anger, and his birthday was worse than ever, because now he knew what he was missing.

He’d thought it would be different this year. He and Mac had been back together for seven months, and married for six of those. He was so happy some days he hardly recognised himself in the mirror. And stupidly, like a little boy, he had been looking forward to today, waiting to see what special surprise his wife had planned for him. Instead, he’d woken to an empty bed, and a note on the dresser from Mac saying that she’d been called into work early but she’d see him in the ten o’clock pitch meeting. He’d been waiting all day for a cake, or a singing telegram, or really just any acknowledgement from anyone that it was June 20. But there’d been nothing at all. He’d almost suspect Mac of organising a surprise party, but she knew full well how much he hated the damn things. Nope, she’d just forgotten, and his mood had gotten blacker and blacker as the day progressed.

“Ten seconds back,” Mac said quietly into his earpiece. The hair and make-up girl darted forward to smooth down the lock of hair that he’d ruffled up with his hands. She stepped back again quickly, as though afraid that he would bite. She’d forgotten how to handle him when he was in a mood like this. They all had. Well, they could just fucking learn again.

He squared his shoulders and lifted his head as Herb counted him in. “Welcome back. The Supreme Court today struck down a class-action antitrust lawsuit alleging that American Express used it market monopoly to force retailers to accept its more expensive credit cards…”

The broadcast dragged, but eventually nine o’clock rolled round. Will signed off, pushed back his chair and went to pull his earpiece out so that he could go and find a nice bolthole to sulk in.

“Hang on a second, Will. Could you just stay in your chair for a minute, please? We need to get some light levels. You looked a bit washed out in that last segment.”

Light levels, my ass. What was MacKenzie up to now?

He rolled his eyes but complied, slouching grumpily back in his chair. Herb came out and held a light meter near his face, moving it around as they switched the different spots on and off. Will ignored him, trying instead to hear what was going on in the control room. Mac had turned her microphone pack off, but he thought there was more talking than usual. He could hear shuffling feet in the corridor too, and the occasional giggle. Bloody hell, this had better not be a surprise party. He was seriously not in the mood. He just wanted to go home with Mac, go to bed and wake up when it was no longer his birthday.

Finally, Herb nodded and withdrew the meter. “Thanks, Will. That should take care of it now.”

Will stretched his mouth into a sarcastic smile. “Really? Are you sure you got enough readings?”

“Yup, we’re all set.”

Herb headed for the control room door. Will made to rise, but stopped when all the lights suddenly went out.

“Hey, what the hell?” he yelled into the darkness.

A single spot came back on, picking him and the desk out in a circle of bright light. And then he heard her in his ear…

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Billy, Happy birthday to you.”

MacKenzie didn’t have the best signing voice. She wasn’t really musical the way that he was. But right now, she was crooning low and soft, with that sexy British accent of hers, and it sounded pretty damn good to him.

He heard the door to the control room open, then shut, and she stepped forward to the edge of the light. His breath caught. _The dress_. She was wearing the dress.

Her shoulders were bare, and her pale, slender arms seemed to go on and on. The stretchy black fabric crossed at her throat and then hugged her body all the way to her knees, picking out her tiny waist, her slim thighs, and her lush, full breasts. Sky high heels and sheer black stockings completed the outfit. Only her hair was different to how it had been on that fateful New Year’s Eve. She had worn it down then, but now it was caught up loosely at the crown of her head, with a few tendrils framing her face. Her eyes were just as he remembered though—she’d done that thing with the kohl and the eyelashes that made her look exactly like a fifties sex kitten.

Will’s jaw hit the floor. He couldn’t believe she’d actually worn it. When he’d come across the dress in her wardrobe a few months ago and asked her why she never put it on, she’d just shrugged and said that she didn’t want to bring back bad memories. This wasn’t a bad memory, though. It felt more like every fantasy he’d ever had, coming true right before his eyes.

She walked slowly around the desk, giving him time to appreciate the view. She stopped in front of his chair, leaning back on the desk. She titled her head to the side and gave him her best come hither smile.

“MacKenzie, what, I mean…”

Will felt as though his brain had been disconnected from his mouth. He couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence. He took a deep breath and tried again.

“Mac, what are you doing?”

Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “Wishing you a happy birthday, of course.”

“What about the staff?”

“They’re on their way to Hang Chews, where they will be toasting your birthday, without us. I promised them a $500 bar tab if they cleared out in under five minutes.”

“What if someone forgets something and comes back?”

“They won’t. But I locked the studio door, just in case.”

“What about the cameras?”

“Disconnected at the board. I double checked before I came in.”

“So we’re not making a sex tape, then?”

Mac laughed, low and sexy. “Relax, Billy. We’re not making a sex tape. Just birthday memories.”

With that she grabbed his tie, pulled him towards her and kissed him, long and hard.

His hands reached instinctively for her waist but she broke the kiss and pushed him back into his chair. “Not yet, Billy. Just let me please you for a bit.”

And boy, did she ever. She straddled him, and trailed her lips down the line of his jaw and throat, loosening his tie as she went. She dragged her nails through his hair and told him how hot he was, how much she got off on watching him through the monitor every night. She returned to his mouth and kissed him passionately, her tongue sweeping slowly across his. And the whole time, her hips were moving slowly, thighs hovering above his lap, but never quite making contact with his groin.

A lap dance. She was giving him a lap dance, for fuck’s sake.

“Sit down MacKenzie,” he growled. “That must be killing your legs.”

She only laughed and shook her head. “Haven’t you noticed all the extra thigh master workouts I’ve been doing lately?”

She’d been training for this? Seriously? He gaped at her, lost for words. She seized the opportunity to pull him into another deep kiss as she unknotted his tie and started to work on the buttons of his shirt.

Five minutes later, Will was at the limit of his control. Mac had removed his jacket, his shirt was open to the waist, and he had a raging hard on in his pants. She was running her nails up and down his chest as she nibbled on his earlobe, her soft moans telling him how turned on she was. He was glad she was enjoying herself, but enough was enough. If he didn’t get his hands on her soon, he was going to explode.

He stood suddenly, catching her waist as he did and flipping her so that she was facing the cameras. She gave a gasp of surprise. He ran one hand up her back and pushed gently between her shoulder blades until she was bent over the desk. It was a pretty high surface, but with her heels on her long legs just reached the floor. “Billy?” she asked, sounding a little shocked.

“Hush, love. You’ve had your fun. Now it’s my turn.”

In this position, the back of the dress was pulled tight over her pert ass. Sliding one hand to the small of her back, he reached down and ran his other up the side of her leg, taking the hem of the dress with it as he went. Her breathing was loud in the quiet of the studio as she waited to see what he would do next.

She could be wearing pantyhose, but he was really, really hoping for stockings. His questing hand found the lacy top half way up her thigh, and the sensitive band of bare skin just above. _Yes_. _Stay ups?_ He ran his hand around the back of the thigh, encountered the small clip and strap, and groaned. She was wearing the black garter belt. She _knew_ what it did to him when she wore that.

His hand rose further, seeking the matching panties, but finding nothing in his way.

“ _MacKenzie!”_ Now it was his turn to sound shocked. “Where are your knickers, you brazen hussy?”

She giggled. “Well, you know Will, this dress doesn’t really lend itself to underwear.”

No underwear? Did that mean no bra either? This called for further investigation, but first…

He pulled the back of the skirt quickly up to her waist, revealing the perfect globes of her bare ass. If ever he had seen a butt just begging to be spanked, this was it, but he still couldn’t do it. He knew MacKenzie liked it rough sometimes, but he couldn’t strike a woman, not even to please her. He contented himself with twanging one of the garter straps against her skin, and was rewarded with a jump and a small cry from her.

Satisfied, he reached up to unzip her dress, and ran his hands over her smooth, bare back. Yep, no bra either. This birthday was just getting better and better.

He leaned forward and kissed the nape of her neck as he eased the shoulders of the dress down just enough to let her magnificent breasts spring free. It was a bit awkward for her, as her elbows were pinned close to her body by the sleeves, but she managed to fold her forearms up enough to hold her chest just off the smooth marble of the desk.

“Are you okay, Mac?” he asked against her skin. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

“I’m good, Billy,” she sighed breathily. “So good.”

He used his left hand to palm one of her breasts, while with his right he reached down between them to her entrance. She was so wet, so ready for him, and he felt his own breathing increase.

He eased two fingers into her and she moaned, tossing her head back in pleasure. He started to stroke gently in and out, while his other hand toyed with her nipples. Within minutes, she was writhing beneath him. Her hair was starting coming loose, stray strands sticking to the sheen of sweat forming at the base of her neck.

“More Billy, I need more,” she begged.

“Do you now?” he asked, adding a third finger and plunging deep.

She groaned, but shook her head. “Yes, no, that feels so good, but I need you Billy, pleeease…”

There was more than a hint of desperation in her voice, so he relented and withdrew his fingers. Holding one hip firmly, he undid his fly, fit himself to her and drove in, flexing his knees to increase the penetration.

“Yes, Billy,” she cried out. “Oh, yes!”

She was so hot and tight that he almost came then and there, but he controlled himself enough to set up a pounding rhythm, driving her into the desk. He let go of her hip and reached forwards with both hands, finding her breasts and stroking firmly over the stiff peaks in time with his thrusts.

He looked up as he did so, and was recalled to their surroundings. They were in the News Night studio, all cameras pointed at them (even if they weren’t switched on), the spotlight focusing all attention on him. This was his anchor desk, the centre of his power, the only place where he had been able to feel anything at all until MacKenzie came back into his life. And now the rush that he got from doing his job was coalescing with the unbelievable ecstasy of making love to her, and it was better than the highest high he had ever known. He’d fantasized plenty about doing MacKenzie on this desk, but he’d had no idea that she might have similar ideas.

Her frantic cries told him that she was getting close, and he was too, but he didn’t think she could get quite enough stimulation in this position to tip her over the edge. Besides, he was still a Midwestern gentleman at heart. Taking her like this, bent over with dress hiked up to her waist, still wearing her garter belt, stockings and heels, was hotter than hot, but it wasn’t intimate enough for the occasion. Abruptly, he withdrew from her, and she cried out in disappointment.

“Shhh, love, it’s alright,” he soothed, shifting his hands to her shoulders and gently helping her to stand. He turned her in his arms and pushed the sleeves of the dress all the way down, freeing her arms. The dazed look in her eyes nearly unmanned him, and he pressed a quick kiss to her lips before bending down to retrieve his jacket from the floor. He reached around to spread it on the desk behind her, and then lifted her so that her bottom was perched on the edge of the desk. She caught on quickly and lay back on the jacket, wrapping her long, stocking-clad legs around his waist and trying to pull him back into her.

“That’s better,” he told her. “I want to see your beautiful face when you come.”

Her eyes widened at his words, so he raised her hips and thrust back into her, making her gasp and throw her head back. He’d been worried that she might be too elevated in this position, but it turned out that his anchor desk was just the right height for a six-foot-three man to make love to his stunning EP wife. Now that he knew, he couldn’t see how he was ever going to get through a broadcast again without a raging erection, but right now he didn’t care.

He knew he wouldn’t last much longer, but Mac was getting close too. Her breasts were bouncing in time with his thrusts, and her dress was bunched around her waist. Her décolletage was flushed a delicate pink, her eyes were shut, and she was moaning his name over and over. He didn’t understand how his brilliant wife could be the best EP in the business and also the sexiest woman alive, but he’d stopped wondering soon after they got married and decided to just enjoy being the luckiest schmuck on the planet.

His brain was starting to disconnect again, and the only words he could get out were “I love you, I love you Mac, I love you so much…” And then even that became too hard to say, and he could only show her with his body, reaching his hand down to find her core as he continued to drive himself into her.

She exploded at his touch. Her back arched up off the desk, lifting her hips, and a high, breathless cry broke from her lips. She convulsed hard around him, and he felt his own orgasm rushing up from his feet and into his back, as he spilled himself into her over and over. White dots formed at the edges of his vision, and he collapsed on top of her, only just retaining enough consciousness to catch his weight on his forearms so that he wouldn’t crush her beneath him.

After a time, he felt the shockwaves of her orgasm subside, and she started to run her nails lightly over his back, soothing him gently back down to earth.

He let out a long groan. “Are you trying to kill me, MacKenzie? I don’t think I’ll make sixty if you do that to me again.”

“Hush,” she told him, laughing. “I own you for at least another forty years, McAvoy. Don’t think you can wriggle out of your contract that easily, because I won’t let you.”

“Okay, okay, I give in,” he told her, sliding down her body a little so that he could pillow his head on her soft breasts. “Let’s go home.”

“Oh no, we’re not done with your birthday yet.”

“We’re not?” he asked, surprised.

“We’ve got late reservations at Nobu. If we hurry, we can still make the last service.”

“But Mac, you’re not wearing any underwear!”

“Oh Billy, you’re such a prude sometimes!” she laughed. “No one will know but you.”

“So I’m supposed to sit through a three course meal in a public place with a huge boner?”

“Not _three_ courses,” she corrected. “I was going to eat you in the bathrooms for dessert, but I think your profile is probably too high for us to get away with that. I’ll just have to wait until we get home.”

He groaned again. “Mac, you have to stop. This is already the best birthday of my entire life. You’ll never be able to top it.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe next year I could make out with Sloan while you watch…”

“You _what_?” he shouted, pushing up and off her so that he could look into her face properly. Her eyes were crinkled up and she was smiling, but he couldn’t tell whether she was joking or not.

“Of course, I’d have to talk to Sloan about it, but I think she’d be up for it…”

He shook his head and dropped it back onto her chest. “Well Mac, at least if you succeed in giving me a heart attack I know that I’ll die a happy man.”

“Shhh,” she told him, wrapping her arms tightly around him. “You know I’ll always take good care of your heart.”

He kissed her then, with everything he had in him, and when he pulled back he could see a sheen of tears forming in her eyes. “Happy birthday, Billy” she whispered.


End file.
